Warsaw-based cold oi! post punks Prorva have followed up their 2024 debut “Recha” with a new EP titled “U cieni impieryj” (“In the Shadow of Empires”), released exactly one year later, in June 2025.
Formed in 2023 by Belarusian musicians previously involved in Force Events, Teenage Warning, and Tidal Force, the band continues to explore the raw ends of punk and cold wave with a distinctly Eastern European edge—urgent, weathered, and steeped in unease.
There’s a certain lightness to these tracks—unexpected, considering the themes—but it’s precisely what makes them hit harder. Beneath the surface weight lies a sharp structural tightness: everything’s in its place, nothing overstays.
The melodies carry the spirit of Central European punk rock—raw but tuneful, furious yet grounded in a tradition that goes back to the ‘80s. It’s that cold, uncompromising energy, but with a sense of forward motion rather than nostalgia. These three songs locked into rotation without effort, and honestly, they’re not leaving my playlist anytime soon.
While “Recha” dealt with the weight of emigration, the 2020 Belarusian protests, and life’s personal fissures under authoritarian rule, the new release sharpens that focus. The EP features three tracks—“U cieni impieryj”, “Smuha”, and “Dryhva”—each zeroing in on different aspects of contemporary disillusionment.
The title track, “U cieni impieryj”, is the most direct. “It’s a bleak reflection on how people live and survive in the shadows of empires,” the band says.
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There’s no lyrical ambiguity here—just a flat reality of wars, invasions, and lives spent watching imperial ambitions redraw borders over and over. “Life in the shadow of empires is simply the reality for many—one we’re forced to accept, with either desperation or a fragile sense of hope,” they add. The track carries that message with a somber, driving force, wrapped in cold, minimal riffs and a delivery that’s more confrontation than catharsis.
“Smuha” (“The haze”) moves inward. It deals with the personal aftermath of political and military trauma—the sense of no longer knowing where you’re headed, and of not being able to go back. “It captures the state of being unable to rely on past achievements, unable to plan even a year ahead,” the band reflects.
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The mood is heavy but not theatrical—just honest. “Wars, conflicts, and political crises uproot millions of lives. These same forces drove us into exile, impacted our friends and families, and left many living in a constant state of war.”
The last track, “Dryhva” (“Swamp”), touches on something quieter but just as heavy: the feeling of being stuck in a city that doesn’t feel like home, yet isn’t foreign either. “It’s about searching for yourself, about the questions you ask but can’t answer,” they explain.
The song sits in that in-between zone, where daily life continues, but something deeper remains unresolved. It’s a fitting closer for a record rooted in psychological drift and the long shadows of displacement.
Since their debut, Prorva have connected with the Polish DIY scene, playing shows across Warsaw, Białystok, Poznań, and Brno, including gigs with bands like Chain Cult and appearances at events such as Ultra Chaos Piknik.
Their first EP “Recha” blended melancholic punk with raw hardcore energy, and helped establish their name in unfamiliar venues. “We were searching for the right words to reflect the reality we lived in,” they recall. “Emigration, the aftermath of the 2020 Belarusian protests, the war in Ukraine, and personal existential struggles in the isolation of city life.”
“U cieni impieryj” doesn’t offer solutions, and doesn’t pretend to. It’s just three songs, cold and focused, sitting somewhere between reflection and warning. That’s the point. The shadow doesn’t lift—it just shifts shape.
